Shattered Mirror
by lmb3
Summary: It has been two weeks since Harry defeated Voldemort. They’ve been the longest of his life. He mourns the dead, rarely speaking, and clinging to his mokeskin pouch. He gets an unexpected inheritance and learns that Dumbledore made one final request.
1. Chapter 1 – A Drive to the Sea

**Shattered Mirror**

**By**

**Lewis M. Brooks, III**

**Description**

It has been two weeks since Harry fulfilled his destiny and defeated Lord Voldemort. They have been the longest two weeks of Harry's life. He mourns the dead, while pushing away the living. He rarely speaks, and clings to the mokeskin pouch that hangs from his neck, though he has told no one what it contains.

When Harry receives an unexpected inheritance, he learns that Dumbledore made one final request of him. Can Harry fulfill Dumbledore's last request, or is he doomed to the fate that Dumbledore warned him about seven years ago?

I would like to thank my Beta, Rachel, PenguinsWillReignSupreme on the HarryPotterFanfiction forums, for all her hard work.

**Author's Note**

This story is not taking place in the same continuity as my other three Harry Potter Fanfictions. "Chapter Thirty-Seven, Picking Up The Pieces," "Harry Potter and the Legend of the Twelve," and "Harry Potter and the Final Chapter," contradict this story quite a bit. This one-shot stands on its own.

If you read my other three Fanfictions, I said at the end that I was no longer writing Fanfiction. This began as an entry for a contest on , and I decided to expand it into a one-shot. I'm not writing anymore.

**Chapter 1 – A Drive to the Sea**

"Are you all right, Harry?"

"I'm fine, Hermione," said Harry tonelessly. He really wished people would stop asking him that. He had answered the same way every time he'd been asked that question for the last two weeks. He thought people would have been able to predict his answer by now.

Harry was staring out the open window of the Ministry car. He'd been doing that for quite a while now, ever since they had left the Ministry of Magic at ten o'clock that morning, in fact. The hustle and bustle of the city had slowly given way to rolling hills and rich green grass on which sheep and cows grazed. It was now nearly one o'clock in the afternoon. Harry had hardly said a word since they left.

"Are you sure you don't want a sandwich, Harry?" asked Hermione, after she finished the last bite of her own roast beef sandwich. "Molly made plenty."

"No thanks," sighed Harry. "I'm not hungry."

Hermione sighed and was quiet for a moment before she spoke again. "We're nearly there, Harry," she noted. Hermione smiled. "We passed a restaurant a few miles back. We should stop for dinner before we head back to London. I'm sure Auror Ravenswood wouldn't mind."

"Not at all," chimed the driver with a smile as he looked in the rear view mirror. "Minister Shacklebolt said to take as long as you need. If you want to stay a day or two, even longer if you want, that's fine. I am completely at your disposal. It's truly an honor, Harry. Anything I can do, you just name it. Thanks again for the sandwiches, and please...call me Arnold, both of you."

"Thanks, Arnold," responded Hermione with a smile. She turned toward Harry. "What do you say, Harry? Let's stay for a couple of days. You haven't left The Burrow in two weeks. Some time at the beach would be good for you. I'm sure Ron will come join us. It's Friday, I bet if we ask Professor McGonagall really nicely we might be able to spring Ginny from school for the weekend."

"You'll miss your plane tomorrow," Harry reminded her, vaguely. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten."

He didn't turn toward her, but he heard her sigh and could practically feel her frown.

"That's all right," said Hermione with a shrug. "Ron and I can get a flight in a couple of days. A day or two won't make any difference."

"That's fine," grumbled Harry softly. "Whatever you want to do is fine."

"All right," said Hermione, somewhat dejectedly. "I still don't know what to say to my parents anyway. I'm not really looking forward to it. I don't think they'll understand."

Somewhere deep down, Harry was aware that Hermione was really upset about going to Australia to get her parents. She was afraid they wouldn't understand and that they might not forgive her for altering their memories. There was a time Harry would have put his arms around her, hugged her tightly and told her that it would be all right. That's what best friends do for one another.

"It will be fine, Hermione," said Harry vaguely as he continued to look out the window.

"I hope so," sniffed Hermione softly. She took Harry's right hand and held it between both of hers.

Harry continued to stare out the window as the countryside rolled by. It was a lovely summer day, but Harry wasn't really seeing it. He was numb to the scenery, just like he was numb to the cool breeze in his face, and to Hermione holding his hand. He had been numb to everything for the last two weeks.

Could it have only been a fortnight, Harry wondered? It felt like a hundred years ago that he stood in the Great Hall as the Killing Curse cast by the Elder Wand rebounded upon Voldemort. If this was what two weeks was like, he couldn't imagine how the next month or the next year would be.

Harry reached up with his left hand and held the mokeskin pouch that hung from his neck. Hermione noticed.

"Harry, I'm just curious…what are you carrying around in that pouch?" she inquired. "I don't remember the last time I saw you not wearing it."

"Just some stuff," replied Harry as he removed his hand from the pouch. "Nothing important." Hermione was right. He had hardly taken the pouch off in the last two weeks and when he did, it was never far from him.

Harry felt Hermione give his hand a squeeze. There was a time that would have been very comforting to him. Nothing really gave him any comfort anymore.

"We could have stopped to get Ron," declared Hermione. "It would have been no problem. George could have done without him at the store today. He would have been happy to come."

"You've both done more than enough for me," insisted Harry with a sigh. "I could've come alone."

"Fat chance," scoffed Hermione with just a touch of annoyance in her voice. She sighed. "I wasn't going to let you do this by yourself. If you'd told us yesterday about the owl you got, Ron would be here too. We could have asked Neville to come as well."

"Sounds like fun," chuckled Harry mirthlessly. "We could have brought Ginny and Luna and made it a Department of Mysteries reunion."

Hermione sighed heavily and laid her head on Harry's shoulder. "We're worried about you, Harry," she whispered softly. "All of us are."

"Yeah," said Harry softly. "You don't need to be. I'm fine."

No one seemed to understand that he wanted to be left alone. Harry had spent the last two weeks at The Burrow. He didn't really have anywhere else to go. He certainly didn't want to go to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place ever again. The only place he could find to be alone during the day was the bathroom. At least at night he was alone, only barely conscious of Ron's snoring on the other side of the room.

Other than the funerals, which Harry remembered clearly, he honestly couldn't recall most of the details from the first few days after Voldemort fell. He was sure he'd spent them, as he had all the days since, sitting in the garden at The Burrow. Ron and Hermione stayed with him most of the time, talking quietly to each other. They tried to talk to him. He listened, but really had nothing much to say beyond 'sure,' 'yeah,' 'maybe,' and 'I'm fine.'

Once in a while, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, or George would take over keeping an eye on him so Ron and Hermione could be alone for a while. Luna, Neville, Professor McGonagall, and Hagrid had all been by a couple of times. He had no more to say to any of them than he did to say to Hermione and the Weasleys.

Only Ginny stayed away, and Harry thought that was for the best. He couldn't say that he blamed her. He would stay away from himself if he could.

A few days after the funerals, Ginny returned to Hogwarts to finish out the school year. The night before she left, Hermione told Harry that he should really talk to her before she went back to school. She said Ginny was crying herself to sleep most nights.

He hadn't talked to her. He couldn't talk to her.

"Please talk to me, Harry," begged Hermione sadly.

"What would you like me to say?" retorted Harry, with no trace of emotion in his voice. He turned his head toward her. She still had her head resting on his shoulder. He had hardly noticed.

"I know how you feel," said Hermione, as she picked her head up.

"You do?" asked Harry softly as he looked into her eyes. He was looking for some sign that she truly could understand how he felt. Hermione's chocolate brown eyes held no such recognition.

"Sorry…I guess not," sighed Hermione slowly as she looked away from his intense gaze. She glanced back to him. "Why don't you tell me? It won't get any better unless you talk about it."

"What is there to talk about, Hermione?" answered Harry with another sigh. "It's over. I stopped him. I've done what I had to do, fulfilled the prophecy and all that. I'd like to not do anything for a while. I think I've earned it."

"Of course you've earned it, Harry," agreed Hermione sympathetically. "I just hate to see you like this. You rarely talk. You barely eat. You look exhausted. I'll bet you're not sleeping at all. I know Ginny understands but…she really needs you, Harry. I know how much it hurts. Fred was like family to me too. Remus and Tonks were my friends. Please just talk to me." Hermione was practically pleading with him.

"I'd rather not talk about anything," protested Harry exasperatedly, as he turned back to look out the window. "They're dead…and I'm still here. What else is there to say?"

"We're still here with you," pleaded Hermione. Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. She took a deep breath. "We haven't gone anywhere. We're here for you, and we want to help you. We all love you, Harry."

"I'm fine," declared Harry. He removed his hand from hers, and rested it on his leg.

In the back of his mind, Harry knew there was pain in Hermione's voice. He should feel terrible letting his best friend worry about him like this. He should want to give her a hug and smile, and then tell her everything would be all right. He couldn't do any of that. He felt nothing.


	2. Chapter 2 – Sand, Rock, and Flowers

**Shattered Mirror**

**By**

**Lewis M. Brooks, III**

**Chapter 2 – Sand, Rock, and Flowers**

As the car continued to roll down the road, Harry slipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans, and retrieved the letter Kingsley had sent him the previous day.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you're well and on your way to recovering from your long ordeal. If you need anything, and I mean ANYTHING, please owl me immediately. After all you have done and all you have lost, the world can never really repay you. I would certainly welcome the opportunity to try._

_Things are going well. We are still rounding up Death Eaters, and will be for quite a while, possibly even for years. All seem to be in hiding now. They aren't a threat to anyone. We could use your help though…when you're up to it. The Auror ranks are greatly depleted. We've lost a lot of good people this year. While things are going well, we need people like you to continue the fight. Take your time, you've earned it, but when you're ready, let me know._

_The real reason I'm contacting you today is that it has recently come to my attention that a provision of Albus Dumbledore's will was not to be executed until after You-Know-Who's death. Please meet me at the Ministry of Magic at nine o'clock tomorrow morning so we can discuss it. I'll then have a Ministry car take you to where you need to go._

_Sincerely,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt_

_Minister of Magic_

Harry slipped the letter back into his pocket. The last thing he needed was another house. Kingsley said the house was special, but didn't explain what that meant. Harry still wasn't sure what to do with Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It was hard enough just to think about Sirius. Living in his home would be impossible.

A few minutes later, the road began to descend and they found themselves on a narrow path with sheer rock walls on both sides. The pavement became more sand covered by the minute until it disappeared completely as they emerged onto a beach.

"We've arrived," said Auror Ravenswood from the front seat. "It looks like a beautiful spot. Albus Dumbledore certainly had good taste."

Harry took a deep breath as he slowly opened the door. He had a knot in the pit of his stomach. He tentatively stepped out of the car, his trainers sinking slightly into the soft sand. Hermione got out of the car after him and closed the door before taking his hand.

They were standing on a beautiful stretch of beach. It stretched about forty yards in each direction before the golden sand changed to rocks, which rose up, sealing the beach at both ends. The road they came in on seemed to be the only way to get there. The sun was shining and it was warm. The waves splashed lazily on the beach, and the ocean stretched as far as they could see. There was no one around.

"Where is it?" asked Hermione confusedly.

"Up there," said Arnold, as he turned away from the water and pointed up.

Above the beach loomed a cliff. A sheer precipice stretched up to the top. It was quite high. Harry and Hermione looked up, but could see nothing but rock.

"Where is the house?" asked Harry, equally as puzzled as Hermione. "I don't see anything up there."

"Half way up the rock face," said Arnold. "You have to look right at it or you can't see it."

Harry and Hermione had been looking at the top of the cliff. They both looked down towards the middle of the rock face and they saw it.

It looked as though a large cave had been cut into the rock, and seemed to stretch back quite a distance. A house sat in it, though from the angle they were looking at it from, they could only see the roof. The rock above it seemed to glow as if the sun were passing right through it. A white picket fence stretched across the front of the cave.

"How would we get up there if there were Muggles around?" inquired Harry. "We can Apparate, but not if we'll be seen."

"You won't need to worry about that," responded Auror Ravenswood with a laugh. "The whole property is magically protected. Muggles can't see the road in here, and if they are in the water, the whole beach looks like a rocky coast. They can't see the house even if they look right at it."

"The whole property?" questioned Harry curiously. "You mean I own…all of this?"

"According to what Minister Shacklebolt told me, yes," said Auror Ravenswood with a nod. "He seemed to think you'd like the privacy."

"Kingsley just said that Professor Dumbledore had left Harry a house, he didn't say it included its own private beach, or that it was anything as grand as this," stated Hermione incredulously.

"The Minister thought it might be a nice surprise," laughed Auror Ravenswood with a smile. "It's called 'Phoenix Bay'."

"Do we have to Apparate up to the house?" queried Hermione, as she scanned the cliff looking for a way up to the house.

"The Minister said there is a rock at the base of the cliff," answered Auror Ravenswood. "If you touch it with your wand it will act sort of like a Portkey and take you up. If you need anything, I'll be right here."

Harry and Hermione thanked Auror Ravenswood. They walked to the base of the rock face. There was a stone set in the ground directly beneath the cave. It had an etching of a phoenix on it. They drew their wands and touched the stone. A moment later, they found themselves standing on grass.

"Well, that was different," said Hermione as she grabbed the white picket fence beside them to steady herself.

There was an identical rock to the one at the base of the rock face beside the white picket fence. It too had a Phoenix etched into it.

Hermione looked out of the opening of the cave. "Harry, look," breathed Hermione. "This view is amazing."

Harry turned and looked out over the water. Unless you looked straight down, all you could see was endless ocean.

"Yeah, I guess," stated Harry absently.

"Harry, this would be such a wonderful place to be on a warm summer night," said Hermione with a smile. "I'll bet the sunset is incredible. It must be really romantic here."

"Probably," mumbled Harry disinterestedly.

They turned toward the house. It was a large three-story building with a porch that stretched across the front. Two swings framed the front door with large windows behind each. The house was white with purple shutters and blue trim. The front door was scarlet with a gold knocker and handle.

A small set of stairs led up to the porch. At the foot of the steps, a cement path stretched towards the picket fence. About fifteen feet from the house it forked and then turned toward the back of the house on each side, apparently creating tracks to the rear of the house. Between the house and the pavement were flowerbeds filled with flowers of every color. The grass that stretched from the front of the path to the white picket fence was neatly trimmed and lush. The walls of the cave had flowers and plants growing out of them, giving it the feel of a giant tropical garden.

"It's so beautiful in here," noted Hermione as she stared wondrously at the house. "The temperature is perfect, not too hot, not too cold. The grass and flowers must all be maintained by magic. It certainly can't rain much in here."

"Well, Professor Dumbledore was one of the most powerful wizards ever," uttered Harry as he looked impassively at the house. "It stands to reason he would have been able to make his home maintain itself, and keep the grass and flowers growing without any rain."

"However he did it, it's beautiful," said Hermione with a smile. "Professor Dumbledore wanted you to have it. I'll bet it was very special to him."

"Probably," responded Harry absently.

"Shall we go inside?" inquired Hermione.

"I'll go alone," Harry informed her, as he started walking toward the house.

"Are you sure?" begged Hermione concernedly.

"Yeah," muttered Harry without turning around. "I won't be long. I'll just look around and then we can head back to The Burrow."

Harry walked across the lawn and up the walkway to the stairs, leaving Hermione behind with a very concerned look etched on her face.

As Harry ascended the steps and approached the door, he could see the knocker more clearly. There was a gold drawing of a phoenix on the door. The gold artwork seemed to almost glow in the slight shadow caused by the roof of the porch. The knocker was shaped like a griffin. It was identical to the one on the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts except that it was gold while the one at Hogwarts was bronze.

Harry drew his wand as he reached the door, but it was a wasted effort. The door unlocked and slowly swung open as he approached. Harry slipped his wand back into his pocket, stepped inside and the door slowly closed behind him.


	3. Chapter 3 – The Letter

**Shattered Mirror**

**By**

**Lewis M. Brooks, III**

**Chapter 3 – The Letter**

Lamps lit immediately when Harry walked through the door, giving off far more light than normal lamps would have. Harry looked around. He'd expected a dusty, neglected house, but in actual fact, it was quite clean and comfortable. There were obviously quite a few charms at work to maintain it.

Harry was standing in a hallway that went straight back into the house and ended in a door. Two large rooms sat on each side of it. A stairway led up to the first floor on the right side of the hallway. On the wall opposite the stairs was a large painting.

Harry walked slowly over to it. It was a painting of Hogwarts. It was exquisitely drawn, but all Harry could really see was how it had looked when last he had seen the castle. The place that had been his home for six of the last seven years was a battlefield, and the castle had sustained heavy damage. Harry wasn't sure he could ever remember it any other way. What drew Harry's attention the most was the white marble tomb that was absent from the painting.

Harry walked back toward the front door and looked into the room to his right. It was a large sitting room. There was a very comfortable looking couch and some chairs around the fireplace. Everything was brightly colored. There were some more paintings on the walls, and the large picture window looked out toward the front of the house. Harry looked out and saw Hermione pacing by the fence, wringing her hands nervously. He really wished that she, that everyone, would stop worrying about him. He wanted Ron and Hermione and everyone else to move on with their lives.

Two windows looked out the side of the house at the plants and flowers growing on the cave wall. Between the windows was the fireplace. Harry looked at the mantle above it. There was a large clock in the shape of a phoenix with a large mirror behind it. Harry stared at his reflection for a moment, but all he could see was the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

In two weeks he hadn't had so much as a twinge in his scar. The pain had been transferred to his chest and become an unyielding dull ache.

There were several framed photographs on either side of the phoenix clock. They were of Professor Dumbledore and his family. They were pictures of happier times, when Professor Dumbledore was a boy, before violence had torn his family apart.

Off to one side of the fireplace was a golden perch. Fawkes had obviously accompanied his master to this house.

The rear wall of the room had an archway that led into the kitchen. Beside the archway was something that Harry hadn't expected. There was a very large television set. It was only now that Harry noticed several electrical outlets on the walls. There was certainly electricity here.

Harry chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. Leave it to Albus Dumbledore to have a Muggle television in his home. Harry could almost imagine him sitting in this room watching the television, being fascinated by a Muggle football match or some scientific study of something or other.

Harry left the living room and crossed the hallway to the dining room. Much like the living room, it was decorated in bright colors. A large chandelier full of candles hung over an ornate polished wood table. There was a centerpiece in the shape of a phoenix upon the table. Professor Dumbledore certainly did like phoenixes.

Another large picture window looked out over the front yard. Hermione was now sitting in the grass leaning against the fence. It was quiet warm, but she had her arms wrapped around herself as if she were cold.

Harry turned away from the window and turned his attention to a large china cabinet with glass doors. It stood against the rear wall of the room beside another door. Harry walked over to it and peered inside.

The cabinet was filled with a set of goblets, a set of sterling silver utensils, and a large set of dishes, plates, and accessories. Each item had a phoenix on it, continuing the theme of the house.

Harry went through the door beside the china cabinet and emerged into the kitchen. It was spacious. Unlike the cramped kitchen at the Burrow, it could have fit a dozen people comfortably around the large table that sat in the middle of the room. There was a large sink in the counter in front of a long window that overlooked the rear of the house. There was a large stove and an oven. The kitchen was brightly decorated like their rest of the ground floor. Phoenixes were prominent. There was a large refrigerator, which made the whole kitchen remind Harry a lot more of a Muggle kitchen than a wizarding one.

Through the window above the sink, Harry could see a lawn stretching back thirty yards to the rear wall of the cave. It too was covered with flowers and plants and made it look even more like a tropical garden than the front of the house. There were more flowerbeds and several large trees provided shade from the simulated sun. A white gazebo sat in the middle of the backyard, surrounded by flowerbeds.

For just a fleeting moment, Harry thought it would be so wonderful to spend a warm summer evening sitting in the gazebo with Ginny in his arms. He could almost feel her lips against his. The thought only lasted a moment though, and was gone as quickly as it had formed.

To Harry's surprise, there was a large in-ground swimming pool in the backyard. Harry didn't think he'd ever heard of a Wizarding home having a swimming pool. Harry grinned slightly. If any wizard would put a swimming pool in his home, it would be Albus Dumbledore. Somehow Harry was sure the water would be just the right temperature all year round.

There was a door that led to the backyard from the kitchen, as well as one leading to a basement. Harry took a quick look in the basement, but didn't find anything interesting. It was just used for storage.

Harry returned to the hallway and headed up the stairs to the first floor. There were five rooms there, but none contained any furniture. They were quite large and could have easily been used as bedrooms. The walls were all painted white. Professor Dumbledore likely never had any need for them and, as such, had never bothered to decorate them.

Harry continued up to the second floor where he found the master bedroom. It was decorated very much like the ground floor with bright colors and paintings. There was a large four-poster bed with a scarlet and gold bedspread and nightstands on both sides of the headboard. It looked like a very comfortable room.

There were quite a few photographs on the walls. All were Wizarding photographs and their occupants were moving. Some were waving while others were posing for pictures.

Harry recognized many of the people in the photographs. There was a picture of a young Albus Dumbledore with an equally youthful Elphias Doge. He saw a picture of Hagrid and one of Professor McGonagall when she was much younger. There was a picture of Professor Dumbledore with Mad-Eye Moody before he got his magical eye.

Harry noticed a large photograph on the nightstand beside the bed. Unlike most of the other photographs, which were in simple frames, this one had an ornate scarlet and gold frame. It was obviously important to Professor Dumbledore. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and picked it up. He looked at it and his heart stopped.

The picture was of a wedding. Professor Dumbledore was performing the ceremony. His parents stood before Professor Dumbledore holding hands with their fingers intertwined. Harry watched Professor Dumbledore smile and wave his wand in the air. A shower of silvery stars fell upon James and Lily, some spiraling around their intertwined fingers. They turned to each other and kissed, then the picture started over again. Beside James, at the front, stood Sirius as best man; Remus and Peter Pettigrew stood by Sirius, both beaming like the other members of the photograph. Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, Frank and Alice Longbottom, and other members of the Order of the Phoenix were there.

Harry had a photograph in the book Hagrid gave him whilst in his first year that was taken after his parents' wedding ceremony. This was the first time he had seen anything from the actual ceremony.

Harry willed himself not to cry as he watched his parents get married over and over again. He was sure he probably couldn't have cried if he wanted to. Harry was sure he was out of tears. What little time he had to himself over the last two weeks was mostly spent crying for the dead. Harry could think of little else but the trail of bodies he'd left in his wake. He couldn't help but notice that most of the people in the photograph were now deceased.

Harry held the photograph in his hands for a few long minutes. He was about to place it back on the nightstand when he felt something on the back of the frame. He turned over the photograph and found an envelope stuck to the back. _Harry Potter_ was written in emerald ink on the envelope and the handwriting was unmistakable. Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He removed the letter from the envelope, unfolded it, and began to read.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you are reading this, then it is over. Tom Riddle will never hurt anyone again. The world is a much brighter place now, Harry. The world has you to thank for that. Whatever you do, never forget that._

_I'd like to say I'm sorry, Harry, but those words seem so hollow. I put you through so much, and I know you must have gone through a lot more since my death. I wish so many things could have been different for you, Harry. I wish it could have been my destiny and not yours. If I could have spared you from all of it, I would have. I am truly sorry._

_I can't know what losses you have suffered, Harry, but this is war, and it would be foolish of me to think I am the last person you know who will die. I know how much the deaths of your parents, Cedric, and Sirius weigh on your heart already. I know my death will weigh on you too. You blame yourself. You are the only one who blames you. While I don't know whom else you'll lose, I know none of them will blame you for it._

_We can never forget the dead, Harry. The people we have lost stay with us. Our memories of them keep them alive in our hearts. Remember the dead, but be careful not to live among them. Too easy is the temptation to let our grief consume us, to forget the living people who care for us. Remember the dead, Harry, but live among the living. That's where you truly belong, and where you truly want to be._

_This house belonged to my parents. Over the years, I fixed it up when I had time. I never really made use of it, except during the summer. In recent years I haven't returned very often. The magical enchantments will last for many years to come, and I'm sure that if they weaken then Miss Granger will be able to restore them. Put this house to good use, Harry. Make it a home. If I may be presumptuous, I think Ginny will love it. I think it would be a wonderful place to raise a family._

_I have asked so much of you, Harry, but I am afraid I have two last requests. In the study, you'll find an old friend. Please take care of him for me. He'll take care of you too. You're his master now._

_There you'll also find an item you are familiar with. You'll know what to do with it, consider this my last request. I tried many times to do it, but I could never bring myself to do what needed to be done. I wasn't strong enough or wise enough to do it. You are a far stronger and wiser man than I, Harry, and that's really saying something._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Harry closed his eyes as a few tears leaked out from under his eyelids. Apparently he wasn't out of tears just yet.

Even from the grave, Professor Dumbledore was trying to help him. Almost all Harry had thought about for the last two weeks was the dead. His parents, Cedric, Sirius, Professor Dumbledore, Mad-Eye Moody, Hedwig, Dobby, Professor Snape, Colin, Fred, Tonks, and Remus had all died because of him. All he wanted was to see them again. All he wanted to do was to tell them how sorry he was, how he would trade places with them in a heartbeat if he could. His heart ached to see them again.

Harry opened the mokeskin pouch and looked at the items inside. He had shrunk most of them so they would all fit. The shard of Sirius' mirror was inside the pouch, along with a photograph of James and Lily. The pair of socks that Dobby had made him for Christmas in his fourth year and the Golden Snitch from his first Quidditch match that Professor Dumbledore had left to him was in the pouch as well. There was a picture of Cedric Diggory, clipped from an old copy of the Daily Prophet, a picture of Mad-Eye Moody, taken from a much more recent issue, and a few Canary Creams left over from what Fred and George had given him for his seventeenth birthday. He had a vial that contained the memories Professor Snape had given him before he died. An old essay that he had written for Defense Against the Dark Arts class in his third year was also inside the pouch. Remus had written 'O - Well Done!' on the corner. The model Firebolt that Tonks gave him for his fifteenth birthday was in there, along with a photograph that Colin Creevey had taken of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. One of Hedwig's feathers that Harry had found in Ron's room at The Burrow was in the pouch too.

Whenever Harry was alone, he would open the pouch and just stare at these reminders of the dead. He would stare at them through his tears during the night, wishing he could crawl inside the pouch and never come out.

On the rare occasions when he wasn't thinking about the dead, he thought of the living and how much suffering he had caused them. He could see loss in all the Weasleys' eyes for Fred even though when he was around, they never let on how terribly painful Fred's loss was.

Andromeda cried so hard for Tonks and Remus at the funeral as she held Teddy in her arms. Poor Teddy was an orphan, and would never know his parents

Harry could hear Mrs. Creevey's sobs as clear as the day Colin was buried. He would never forget the blank look on Dennis Creevey's face as he stood over his elder brother's grave.

Hermione and Ron had finally admitted how they felt about each other. After all this time, they were together and they should have been happy. Harry knew very well that when Ron and Hermione went off to be alone, that most of the time Ron was crying for his brother on her shoulder. Ron didn't want to cry in front of him. After all they had suffered these last seven years, Ron and Hermione couldn't even be happy.

Then there was Ginny. He loved Ginny so much. He had been in love with her for longer than he even realized, but how could he tell her? When he looked at her, he could only see the pain her brother's death had caused her. Harry knew he was responsible for that pain. How could she ever forgive him for that? How could he ever forgive himself?

Professor Dumbledore wanted Harry to live among the living, but how could he? He had hurt them so much, even more than he had hurt the dead. He belonged among the dead. Professor Dumbledore was wrong. Harry did want to live among the dead. Where he truly wanted to be was inside that pouch where he could never forget those who had lost their lives for him.

Harry slipped Professor Dumbledore's letter inside the mokeskin pouch and closed it. He placed the photograph of his parents' wedding back on the nightstand.

A door led into another room. Harry knew what was in there. Professor Dumbledore's cryptic description of what was in his study wasn't really that hard to decipher.

Harry stood up and walked slowly to the door. He took a deep breath, then turned the handle, and pushed open the door.


	4. Chapter 4 – Heart’s Desire

**Shattered Mirror**

**By**

**Lewis M. Brooks, III**

**Chapter 4 – Heart's Desire**

Professor Dumbledore's study looked a lot like the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts. There was a large claw-footed desk, and shelves of books lined the walls. A suit of armor stood in the corner. There was a fireplace with a mantle above it, with a clock identical to the one downstairs upon it. Harry was sure the large empty portrait above the fireplace belonged to Ariana Dumbledore.

There was a couch and a few chairs in the room. Several large windows looked out over the front lawn and the ocean beyond, and another overlooked the backyard. In the corner was something large that was covered with a sheet. There was a large golden perch beside the desk, upon which sat a large bird with scarlet and gold feathers.

"Hello, Fawkes," said Harry with a slight smile, as he walked over to the perch. "Have you been here all alone all this time?"

Fawkes looked at Harry and made some soft noises. Harry stroked his feathers. He thought Fawkes looked sad.

"You miss him too, don't you?" asked Harry softly. He could see the answer in the phoenix's eyes. "Well, I guess I'm your master now. I hope that's all right with you." Fawkes spread his wings and leapt from the perch, landing gracefully on Harry's shoulder. "I guess I'll take that as a yes."

Harry walked over to the window and saw Hermione pacing nervously beside the white picket fence again.

Harry sighed and walked to the large sheet covered item in the corner. He pulled the sheet off and as he expected, before him stood the claw-footed, ornate gold frame containing the Mirror of Erised.

Harry turned away from the mirror and took a deep breath. He walked a few feet away and stood with his back to it. He had always wondered what Professor Dumbledore had done with it.

As much as he wanted to, Harry would never have sought out the magic mirror. Professor Dumbledore had asked him not to. However, Dumbledore had practically led him right to it, and Harry was sure that the fate that his professor had once warned him about would be his own. He would welcome it.

Harry knew who he would see when he looked into the Mirror of Erised. It was who he needed to see, whom he had wanted to see for the past two weeks, and for so much longer than that. It was whom he would gladly stare at for the rest of his days.

Harry knew very well what Professor Dumbledore was asking him to do in the letter. Harry was sure that Professor Dumbledore was wrong. He could never be strong enough to do it. He would never do it.

Harry turned and looked into the Mirror of Erised. He gasped. Harry wasn't at all prepared for what he saw.

All his family that he had seen years ago, including his parents, were still there. Cedric, Sirius, Professor Dumbledore, Mad-Eye Moody, Hedwig, Dobby, Professor Snape, Colin, Fred, Tonks, and Remus were all there with them. None of them had caused him to gasp.

The dead weren't standing around him. They were in the background. Around him stood the Weasleys, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Luna, and Neville. Ron and Hermione stood at his sides, each with a hand on one of his shoulders. Ginny stood with her arms around him, looking up at him and smiling.

Harry stared open mouthed at the Mirror of Erised. What did this mean?

Harry had spent two weeks thinking about the dead and about how much he had hurt the living. He didn't feel that he deserved the love that Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and the others felt for him. He was sure he belonged among the dead. He was sure that was where he truly wanted to be.

Harry knew the Mirror of Erised didn't lie. He could still hear Professor Dumbledore's words. 'It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.' Harry knew what a fool he had been.

Harry smiled. It might have been the first time he had really smiled since Voldemort's defeat. He knew what he had to do.

Harry looked at the faces of all the people he had lost standing in the background behind him one last time. He saw Professor Dumbledore smile and nod. Harry drew his wand and pointed it at the mirror.

"Reducto!"

When the spell hit the mirror, it shattered, along with the silence of the house. Magical energy cracked in the air. It was so loud that it sounded like a bomb had gone off. The pieces of mirror and frame crashed to the ground loudly. Fawkes was startled by the noise and flew from Harry's shoulder, landing gracefully on the perch beside the desk.

A moment later, Harry could hear someone running up the stairs, screaming his name. It wasn't hard to figure out who it was.

"Harry!" came Hermione's fearful voice as she hurtled through the study door. She saw her best friend and practically leapt on top of him, throwing her arms around his neck and holding on for dear life. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," assured Harry softly as he hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"What happened?" asked Hermione as she continued to hold on to him.

"It's a very long story," replied Harry with a smile. "I'm all right though…really. I was just taking care of some unfinished business."

Hermione held on for a few more moments. She was trying to catch her breath and she was shaking like a leaf. After a few moments, she began to sob on his shoulder.

"I'm so scared, Harry," squeaked Hermione through her tears. "I love you so much. You're my best friend, and I can't imagine my life without you. I feel like you're slipping away from us. It hurts us all to see you in so much pain. You don't need to suffer through it alone."

"I'm really sorry," said Harry, as he pulled back from her and gently brushed away her tears. He smiled at her, kissed her forehead, and hugged her tightly again. "You're right. I was slipping away. I didn't mean to shut you out. I just…didn't think I deserved you all. I was being a real prat."

"Yeah, you were," insisted Hermione with a smile as she pulled back from him. "Will you talk to us? Will you let us help you through what you're feeling?"

"Yeah," said Harry with a nod. "I will."

"Good," declared Hermione. "You can start by telling me what's going on." Hermione looked quizzically over Harry's shoulder. "Is that Fawkes?"

"Come on," said Harry with a smile. "I'll explain everything."

Harry and Hermione went into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. He showed her the photograph of his parents' wedding and Professor Dumbledore's letter, being careful not to let her see what else was in the mokeskin pouch. He told her about destroying the Mirror of Erised. He left out what he had seen in the mirror.

"I'm sorry I've been so distant lately," sighed Harry as he shook his head. "I feel so guilty. You've all suffered because of me. So many people have died because of me. I didn't feel like I deserved having you care about me. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be sorry," asserted Hermione as she took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Just as long as you realize that you were wrong. We're all here for you. Everyone will be relieved to see you smile again."

"Me too," agreed Harry with a smile. "We can have dinner before we head back. This summer, maybe we can get everyone to come here for a while. I think we could all use a nice long holiday."

"No argument here," remarked Hermione with a smile. "Ron and I should only be in Australia for a week. Will you be all right until we get back?"

"Sure," said Harry. "Do you think Professor McGonagall would let me visit Ginny for a few days? I really need to talk to her."

Hermione laughed. "I think you can probably convince her," replied Hermione. "If she gives you a hard time, I'm sure Kingsley can convince her. Just make sure you take your cloak…for when you aren't just talking to Ginny."

Harry blushed but couldn't hide a grin. "Yeah, I'll do that," said Harry. Harry reached up and grabbed the mokeskin pouch. He took a deep breath and then lifted the string up over his head. He held the pouch in his hand and just looked at it for a moment.

"What exactly do you have in there, Harry?" inquired Hermione curiously.

"Just some stuff," responded Harry. He smiled and pulled open the drawer of the nightstand. He gently set the mokeskin pouch inside, and then closed the drawer. "Nothing I need to carry around…not anymore."

"Fawkes," called Harry as he and Hermione stood. A moment later, Fawkes flew into the bedroom and perched on Harry's shoulder. Hermione took Harry's hand.

"Harry, what exactly did you see in the Mirror of Erised?" asked Hermione, as they headed toward the stairs. "You never told me."

"I saw the deepest, most desperate desire of my heart," said Harry as he gave Hermione's hand a squeeze. "It was right in front of me all the time…I just needed to be reminded."

**THE END**

A/N: "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts," is a direct quote from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Please review!


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